Thursday, May 16, 2013

Coming and going

I've said I'm not eager to work from home, but given that I don't work here with anyone, it hardly seems any different.

One thing I won't miss is the smell. Let me set the stage here.

I started working here, in this office, less than 48 hours after Twinkle died. I'd been working from home while our office was transitioned. My stuff had been sitting here about a week. But with her gone, there was really no more reason to work from home. It was more or less at that time, too, that I decided to hell with the bus. Why spend more money than I would on gas to stand around waiting, brave the cold, sometimes not get a seat, leave myself without the ability to run little errands at lunch time or on the way home, and spend more of my life getting to and from work? So, that morning, I drove in. I was one of the first people on the floor. I had no idea where my desk was and I slightly scared a woman working on the floor when I suddenly appeared, asking about a seating map. I found my spot, shared with a 2' concrete pillar. I had to open a box and start putting things together there in the dark at 6:30 in the morning, late in October. More than anything at that moment I wanted not to have to be alone with my thoughts, but I was. It would be most of an hour before I could even get the laptop up and going.

But the thing that really caught me, and remains the thing that brings me right back to that dismal moment every morning when I walk in here, is the smell. Swear to God, it's like the maintenance staff comes up here at 3 in the morning, unwraps a fresh Barbie doll, and sets its hair on fire. In some places it verges on nauseating. And every morning, that's the smell of that morning walking in here after watching Twinkle gasping for breath in her litter box, dying. Besides the constant association, whatever it is, it can't be healthy. That's one thing I won't miss in working from home, anyway.

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